Come And Bring Your Warmth
by Kathey27
Summary: He will gladly be her broken toy. / Or, You don't remember when you started to go bad you just know that you did. AU.


**A/N: Cas is my baby and I enjoy torturing him, as you can all obviously see. IT'S HOW I SHOW LOVE AND AFFECTION, DON'T JUDGE ME, OKAY?**

**Summary: He will gladly be her broken toy. / Or, ****You don't remember when you started to go bad you just know that you did.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**xxxxxx**

**come and bring your warmth (a bit closer):**

You don't remember when you started to go bad you just know that you did.

Maybe it was the day you were sent down to the pits of Hell, the task of rescuing a righteous man heavy on your wings.

Maybe it was the day you met Ruby. Fiery, sweet, loving, vicious Ruby with the black eyes and dead soul.

Maybe when you rebelled and killed hundreds for Ru – the righteous man.

Maybe when you started to wonder _what if i kissed her there?_

Yeah, that was probably it.

xxxxxx

You have always had a fear of falling.

Which is ridiculous because once upon a time you were the perfect soldier. Rigid and hard and hollow and _steady._

But the fear would always be there, at the base of your skull.

Now, the fear is intensified because you are falling. You're falling and you're falling fast with every passing day. Every time you shove your hands inside one of your brethren and rip their heart out, you're that much closer to touching the ground forever.

And Ruby…Ruby does not help. Because Ruby is your best friend and your confident and your _person_. She is everything.

But she's a demon.

She is everything you were trained to hate and kill.

Except instead of violent thoughts, whenever you see her, you have to stop yourself from slamming her into the nearest wall and touching her everywhere.

And this is bad, so, so very, very bad because this isn't right. She's made out of hellfire and black tar and death and destruction and carnage. She is everything you can never touch.

And you love that. A part of you secretly loves that.

She is all there is.

(You have fallen).

xxxxxx

When you became acquaintances with Ruby and the righteous man and the boy with the demon blood, it's out of necessity. You were around them because it was convenient and worked and you had no one else. Not anymore.

But now…

Now you spent the nights driving around with _Dean_ and talking with _Sam_ and looking at Ruby.

Now they're your friends. Now you are damned.

Because now you care and flinch when they get hurt and don't care when your remaining brothers look at you with fear and disgust.

Because you have them (her) and that is enough.

xxxxxx

When the clock strikes five, you follow her.

You watch, from the sidelines, invisible and watch as Ruby gets out of bed and goes outside.

You watch as she stands there bathed in a brilliant blue light, wearing nothing more than one of Dean's ratty old t-shirts and her bowie knife. (Ever the hunter).

You watch as she stands there faced turned upwards towards the sky, eyes closed, silent tears climbing their way down her cheeks. You watch and ache because you can't go to her, can't touch her. And this kills you, because she is all there is, still.

You watch her stand before blue hour, head back and eyes wet and closed and freer than you've ever seen her.

You always leave before she goes back inside.

(You ignore the black halo that surrounds her against the twilight sky).

xxxxxx

Nine months into your damnation, Dean makes you try pie.

He sits you down, stacks a row of plates before you and hands you a fork.

"Eat." He orders and you do. Because those hazel eyes are sparkling brighter than you've seen in months.

You first go for the cherry pie because it's blood red inside and reminds you of all the blood you've spilt in the name of the man before you.

You bite into the slice and get a sharp flush of all your sins, all you've ever done wrong, all your misgivings.

You glance up, meet sparkly bright eyes and nod. "It's good."

He beams and slides another plate before you.

The night passes this way. You get plate after plate set before you; get flashes after flashes and by the time you're down to the last plate, your (no, _not yours_) tongue is ready to jump out of your – _no_ – mouth.

The final slice is smaller than the rest. It's smaller and has a dark look to it and it's a nice break from all the red – cherry, strawberry, rhubarb – that you dive in, desperate for this night to end.

The second it touches your – _never_ – tongue, your mouth explodes.

Taste starts to eat away at your insiders and deep, spicy warmth fills you, traveling down to your toes.

You freeze and frown because you've never had this before. This – this…this feeling. This feeling of fullness – actual fulfillment – and warmth and so, so much goodness.

This is everything you never got in Heaven.

You gaze up for a final time, clear your throat and somehow find it in yourself to speak and ask, "what flavor?"

"You like it?"

You can only nod.

"Blueberry."

xxxxxx

You are broken.

This is a simple fact, the simplest fact that there is and ever will be.

You are a bruised, beaten, hollow, broken thing inside.

You'd been expecting this, really.

The Winchesters…they themselves are broken and so is Ruby. Pretty, sweet, everything you can't let yourself want Ruby. They're all so broken and so beautiful and so, so tragic.

And so is everyone they know.

All the friends they've made, all the family they've earned through the years are damaged goods.

And you now fall under that category of broken toys.

This war, this life, this chaos, it's broken you. They've broken you.

But it's okay. It's okay this time because you have Ruby.

You might not _have_ her but you have her. And that is worth all the shattered pieces you have become.

She is worth tens of thousands of suns and moonbeams.

With her all-knowing eyes and sly smirk and soft hands and brave words…

She is life. You'll gladly be broken besides her.

xxxxxx

You're ready to say your goodbyes. You're ready to say your final thanks.

This war is drawing to a close and you're tired. So, so tired. The kind of tired that seeps into one's bones and settles in and doesn't ever go away. You're an angel. A being of God should never have to know this kind of tiredness, this sadness, this desperation.

It shouldn't be possible, allowed.

You're ready for your final words.

You've known for a while, probably from the beginning, that you weren't going to make it out of this War in one piece, alive. And you've slowly come to accept that, it no longer causes your remaining Grace to tangle itself and leave you dizzy.

You've made your peace.

So your first thanks is to Bobby Singer. Gruff, tired, hard, _broken _Bobby Singer. The man who somehow, along the way became an authority figure for you, became a friend. Family.

You go to him when you know he's going to be alone, hulking around his massive library.

The first words out of his mouth are, "what do you damn idjits want now?"

You stand before him, tired and empty and with nothing else left to lose and the only words that can even make it out of your mouth are, "Thank you."

The older hunter pauses in book scrounging, straightens up as best he can in his chair and holds your gaze. He holds it for a good while and when he finally looks away with a nod, you know he understands because this is Bobby Singer. The man who raised Dean and Sam and shielded them from their father's subtle abuse and raised them as best he could. Bobby Singer who always did the best he could with the little he had.

"Come on wings, lets go see if I have any booze left."

You follow him happily.

The next goodbye is Sam is this is only because it'll hurt less if he goes first.

Sam, the boy with the sad green eyes and the puppy dog face and the demon blood pumping through his veins. Sweet, sweet, caring Sam who would rather kill himself a thousand times over than hurt anyone else. Sam, your friend.

You tell him while you're both watching television one night and you feel it fall out of your lips. The words tumble forward because if anyone deserves a thank you, it's the bo-_man_ sitting besides you. Who has had so much thrown at him and so much blamed on him and who has yet to give up or stop believing.

The _man_ who is going to save the world.

"Thank you."

Sam glances away from a the screen for a second but his eyes stay locked on yours for a bit, as if trying to decipher what brought this all on. You keep your face as impassive as ever and try to convey what you want with your eyes. _Thank you for being better, thank you for proving me wrong, thank you for befriending me and thank you for what you're going to sacrifice for this world. For what I can't do_.

He finally looks away with a small frown and a "uh, sure cas. no problem."

Dean is next and this is going to be the hardest one because the man is already broken enough as it is without you adding to the guilt.

The both of you are driving out to nowhere and it's the middle of the night and it's the perfect time because you know you won't get the chance to again, not with the end coming so soon.

"Dean?" The words are directed towards your lap and the only indication you receive of him listening is a faint _hmm_.

"Thank you. For all that you've done."

A sharp snort. "What? Bring about the end of the world? Sure Cas, you're absolutely welcome."

A flicker of a smile falls against your lips and you know that's all you're going to get. Dean has never really been one for words but you'll take what you can get. You sneak a peek from the corner of your eye towards the righteous man and what you see has you wishing you'd never said a damn thing. His eyes, as cold and hard and damaged as ever are on the road, his hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel and whole body as tense as always.

"Dean?"

"…hmm."

Lie to him. Lie.

"Sam will be fine. You'll be fine. Ruby will be fine."

A smirk and a shake of the head, "Liar."

You lean back into your chair; you never could get much pass him.

Ruby is saved for last and this is a few hours before Detroit.

She's there, sitting in the back of the open truck, glaring at Crowley and all you can do is walk forward and stand before her. Her brilliant blue eyes light up and she reaches for you, almost as if out of instinct. "Hey you. Ready to get this show on the road?" Her hands are holding onto your trench coat's lapels and she's smirking and her eyes are bright and her hair is slightly messy and there's dried blood on her neck and…she's never looked more beautiful to you before.

"Ruby?"

"Yeah Castiel?"

"Thank you. And…I love you."

Her smirk falters for a second before sliding back into place and before you can stop her, she's pulling you in, crushing you to her chest. Her warmth envelopes you and it's all you can do not to bury your face into her hair. "I love you too. Forever and always, right?"

"Yes Ruby…forever and always."

xxxxxx

The second your brother's eyes land on you, you know it's over. You stand there, ready for your punishment and before the whole world goes black, you cling to the image of Ruby's smile.


End file.
